


it's going down, i'm yelling timber

by callunavulgari



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alive Laura Hale, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, College Student Stiles, M/M, Still Werewolves, Texts From Last Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 19:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1869396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callunavulgari/pseuds/callunavulgari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>I just walked into a room at this party and someone yelled “dibs,"</i> Derek types, painstakingly tapping the message out with one hand because the other is occupied with keeping his beer tucked closely to his chest. The noise in the place is about as bad as the press of bodies and it’s already driving him a little insane. He has never regretted having enhanced senses more than this moment. It’s louder than most nightclubs in here.</p><p><i>Omg</i>, Laura types back. <i>Was it Stiles?</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	it's going down, i'm yelling timber

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MismatchedPurple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MismatchedPurple/gifts).



> For [my textsfromlastnight meme](http://callunawrites.tumblr.com/post/90183669635/meme-me-up-scotty) on tumblr. Alternate universe where the Hales are still werewolves, but the fire never happened, so all the Hales are alive and well, living their life and the events of Teen Wolf never actually happened as a result. Stiles and Derek still meet anyway. Also, get it, the title's funny because they're sitting on a fallen log for half the fic! No? No? Tough crowd.

_I just walked into a room at this party and someone yelled “dibs,"_ Derek types, painstakingly tapping the message out with one hand because the other is occupied with keeping his beer tucked closely to his chest. The noise in the place is about as bad as the press of bodies and it’s already driving him a little insane. He has never regretted having enhanced senses more than this moment. It’s louder than most nightclubs in here.

 _Omg,_ Laura types back. _Was it Stiles?_

Derek frowns, glancing around again, but he still can’t make out anyone in this crowd. He tucks the beer bottle into the crook of his arm and taps back, _What’s a Stiles?_

The reply to that is just a long line of exclamation points and not a minute later, his phone buzzes and lights up with an incoming call.

He ignores it. She’s living in New York — he _remembers_ the nightlife there. She’s not allowed to live vicariously through him.

 _Pick up your phone, idiot,_ he gets after the fourth missed phone call. He sighs and begins picking his way towards the back door; if his childhood taught him one thing, it’s to pick his battles with Laura. He’s most of the way there when someone sidles up next to him and snags a hold of his shirt. Derek turns, eyebrow raised.

"Hey!" the guy shouts at a volume that would be normal if he were trying to get a human to hear him over the music, but mostly just makes Derek wince even more. "I’m Stiles!"

Oh, Derek thinks. The sheriff’s kid. He thought he’d recognized those moles. He furrows a brow and jerks his head towards the door and tells himself he doesn’t care if the kid — _Stiles_ — follows him or not, he just needs to get out.

The kid does tag along after him, fingers still hooked into his shirtsleeve, and the moment they get outside, he turns to Derek with a bright grin.

Derek blinks at him, phone buzzing in his hand. He ignores it.

The kid is definitely at least tipsy, but judging by the way he lists to the side a little, catching himself on the porch railing, he’s probably straddling the fine line between tipsy and just plain drunk.

"Aren’t you like twelve?" Derek blurts, flushing the moment the words are out of his mouth. It isn’t his fault; the last time he’d talked to Stiles, the boy had gone by a different, far more unpronounceable name and _was_ twelve. Looking at him now, all slim, narrow hips and long, pipe-cleaner limbs, Derek can tell that he’s certainly not twelve anymore, but there’s no way he’s twenty-one either. God though, his _hands_ are distracting.

Stiles, though, just grins at him, apparently not offended in the least, and croons, “You remember me!”

"You were pretty memorable," Derek admits, glancing across the yard. He wrinkles his nose when he spots a couple doing more than just necking in the bushes. It’s true though, that Stiles was memorable. The kid got himself lost in the woods, tromping around with his heart pounding so hard that Derek had heard him inside the house. Derek had finally gone and fetched him after an hour of failing to concentrate on algebra. Laura had teased him about it for days. He still hasn’t gotten her to ease up on the Lassie jokes.

"Awesome!" Stiles says brightly, punching a fist into the air.

"So, what does your dad think of you being here?" Derek asks him, mostly teasing. Stiles crinkles his cute little nose and lists to the side again, flashing Derek another grin when he reaches out to guide the boy so that he’s leaning up against the porch railing _properly_ this time.

"I’m nineteen and in college," Stiles tells him with a dismissive flap of his hand, rolling his eyes. "Pretty sure he expects it. And if not, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him."

"So, I don’t have to worry about getting as far away from you as possible if the cops get called?" Derek asks, taking another sip of his beer. It’s a shitty brew and it sure as hell isn’t going to get him drunk, but after New York, it feels weird to be in a crowd like this without something alcoholic in his hands.

Stiles bobs his head a little and makes a motion with his hand that almost takes Derek’s eye out. He dodges, but Stiles doesn’t even seem to notice, just says, “Naw, dude. Plus he’s in some conference thing in Redding for the week, so the most that would happen is Parrish insisting on driving me home.”

Derek cocks his head in confusion. “What kind of sheriff goes to conferences?”

Stiles shrugs. “Dunno. He didn’t really say. I think he just wanted an excuse to get out of town for a bit, but hey. Who knows.”

They’re quiet for a bit before Stiles finally notices the couple in the bushes. He looks like he’s thinking about doing something stupid, like turning the hose on them, so Derek drags him off the porch, trekking towards the smattering of trees that lead out into the preserve.

"Hey man, party foul, yo," Stiles says in a sly voice, staggering into Derek’s side. "You’re not supposed to drag nubile young boys out into the woods. People will talk."

"What people?" Derek snorts and Stiles nods in reluctant agreement, like _fair enough_. It’s not like anyone at that party would have even noticed them leave, unless the McCall kid was Stiles’ designated driver.

"What brings you to a college party, anyway?" Stiles asks, once they’re a good ten minutes into the preserve. Probably shouldn’t take the inebriated human much further. Derek spots a fallen log and leads them towards it, smiling when Stiles flops down onto it, unrepentantly ungraceful.

"Cora, supposedly," Derek answers, taking a seat beside him. "But I lost her at the front door."

"Yeah, I’d believe it. That place was pretty packed."

"Loud."

Stiles snorts, giving him a fond look. “Think you’d be used to it, what with partying it up in the Big Apple— how’s Laura anyway?”

Derek glances down at his pocket and tugs out his phone, eying the thirteen new messages he has. “Overbearing.”

"I’m told that big sister’s are like that."

Reluctantly, Derek starts flicking through the messages, trying to see if there’s anything important.

 _The Stilinski kid, if you must know,_ the first one reads.

 _Y’know, the one that’s had a crush on you since you pulled him out of a well seven years ago,_ the second one says, and after that, it’s mostly just his name, over and over again, before the last one just says, _fine, be that way. remember, wrap it before you tap it! xoxoxo._

When he finally pockets his phone, Stiles is craning his neck like he’d been trying to read the messages. Caught, he gives a sheepish little smile, and says, “Your sister’s nice.”

"She’s a menace," he snorts, but can’t stop the affectionate smile from drifting across his face.

"So, this is new, you dragging me into the woods instead of, y’know, out of them," Stiles says abruptly, face flushing like he hadn’t meant for that to come out. Derek wonders if he’s been waiting for an excuse to say it, if he’s had that joke tucked into the inside of his cheek.

He laughs, shaking his head ruefully, and admits, “My sister still hasn’t stopped calling me Lassie.”

Stiles snorts. “Sorry, not sorry. No Lassie jokes on my end, but my dad gave me shit about it for weeks. He still looks at me funny whenever I’m out this way.”

"You come out here often?" Derek asks, somewhat surprised. It’s only when Stiles starts laughing that he realizes how that probably sounded. The tips of his ears go hot. "No— wait, I didn’t—”

"Well, you did drag me off into the middle of the woods…"

"I really don’t like crowds that much."

Stiles blinks at him, drumming his fingers on the bark beneath him, and smiles, slow and sweet. “And you came out with your little sister, anyway? Aww, you’re such a good big brother.”

"Obviously not that great, since I ditched her to drag unsuspecting college students into the woods," he tells Stiles wryly.

"Nuh uh, bro," Stiles says, poking him in the chest. "Pretty sure she ditched you first. I just got lucky and found you before someone else spirited you away."

Derek stares at him, eyes tracing over his cheekbones, where the moonlight has set his pale skin aglow. The kid has definitely grown up, he knows that, but seeing him like this, sprawled back on a log in the middle of the woods, is different. His lips, which are distracting enough what with him gnawing on them every few minutes, are parted on a soft smile and so, so red. He kind of wants to kiss them.

"You _are_ the one that called dibs, aren’t you?” he asks slyly. “Laura was right.”

"Your _sister,_ who is halfway across the country, _seriously_ guessed that?” Stiles exclaims, flailing. Derek has to catch him under the armpit so he doesn’t slide right off the tree trunk.

"Apparently you’ve had a crush on me since you were twelve," he explains, smile widening when Stiles goes red all over.

"Ugh, clearly I’ve uh— yeah, I should probably just go—”

Derek laughs again when Stiles starts to get up, reaching a gentle hand out to tug him back down. He turns, still grinning, and gives in to the urge to nuzzle their cheeks together, sliding his lips across warm skin and over to Stiles’ ear. “Didn’t say I minded,” he breathes, noting with glee the way that Stiles’ heart skips a beat.

Slowly, Stiles starts to grin and says, “Oh,” right before he tackles Derek off of the log.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me on tumblr and give me a prompt of your own! My [writing blog](http://callunawrites.tumblr.com/) and [my primary one](http://callunavulgari.tumblr.com/). :)


End file.
